


Shadows

by heartforhire



Series: Noire [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series)
Genre: But So Is Sirius, Experiments, F/M, Karma's a bitch, M/M, Nightmares, Polyamory, Psychological Manipulation, The Author Has No Idea What Is Happening, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Speaks In Third Person In Tags, Trauma, cloning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 04:32:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11638989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartforhire/pseuds/heartforhire
Summary: "No one is invincible. No matter how much they want to be.""What about need to be? What then?""Then they turn to the shadows, because that's all they have."-(The Shadow Triad really have no origin, do they? Face it. All we really know is that they were saved by Ghetsis, have strange powers, and are unfailingly loyal to him.To be honest, that's all I know too, but what's wrong with a little... creative license?)





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is shit. 
> 
> -Kloe

Serafina "Karma" Adams was a strange child, that was for sure. Her white hair and pitch black irises set her apart from her family and the rest of the village. She was always hidden in the shadows, or tucked away in the library with a book. Whenever she found something she thought was wrong, she paid them back, hence the nickname. 

It was with much pleasure that her parents cast her out of their home. 

She was seven, stumbling along a road with clothes that were too big, a bag that was too small and a single, slightly scratched Pokéball clutched in her hand. 

Inside was a Munna.

After giving her the empty Pokéball, her mother had shoved her into the fields that lay in front of the town with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. 

"Catch a Pokémon, Karma. It will protect you." 

She had been lucky that Munna had been sleeping when she stumbled across her. The scratches from the Pidove still bled on her arms and face, and the bruises from the Patrat still ached on her back and shoulders. She had no idea what a Pokémon like Munna could do to her. 

Cradling the metal ball closer to her chest, the white haired girl continued walking down the road. Her body was bent over at a nearly ninety degree angle, shaking violently. She had been soaked to the bone after some kids pushed her into a river the hour before her mother had given her the Pokéball and sent her out of the town, and that hadn't changed in the half hour that she had been out of town. 

Collapsing to her knees on the yellowing grass, Karma stared at the Pokéball. The dying sun caught on the metal, making it shine with the fury of a thousand fires. 

"Munna, please don't me angry at me..." the girl whispered as she threw the ball up into the air. It glowed brightly, cracking open slightly. A red light shimmered as it took the form of the Pokémon she had caught. Karma eyed it with a mixture of wariness and wonder as it floated in the air facing her.

"Munna!" The pink Pokémon drifted forwards slightly. Karma braced herself, arms in front of her face in preparation for the blow that was about to arrive. However, instead of a blow, there came a slight nudge on her arms. Curiously, the white haired girl glanced around the cradle of her arms to find the Pokémon floating just in front of her.

"Um... hello?" Karma asked, voice wavering at the end. The Munna just floated forward a bit more until she was at her eyes, repeating her name.

"Munna!" Karma relaxed, arms dropping to her sides as she eyed the Pokémon curiously. 

"Uh, my name's Serafinabutyoucancallme--" she was interrupted by a small cry from the Pokémon as she nudged against her face. Karma nodded and winced slightly at the reminder.

"Sorry..." she whispered, glancing down. With a nervous gulp, she looked back up at the Pokémon hovering in front of her. Breathing in, she made sure to keep her speech at an understandable rate.

"My name is Serafina, but m-most people call me Karma." Her voice got much quieter at the end as she looked down. Munna made her cry again, nudging her face. Karma smiled slightly.

"It's good to meet you too." The white haired girl held out the Pokéball, gently clicking the middle ring. Munna nudged her again as she was turned into red light and pulled back into the Pokéball. Karma smiled down at the Pokéball, happiness shining in her eyes.

She finally had a friend.

-

"You're up, Munna!" yelled Karma as she flicked the Pokéball into the air. The red capsule cracked open, allowing the red light to flow out of it. It took shape above the ground before solidifying into a Pokémon.

"Munna!" Karma smiled for second before focusing on the Pidove in front of her.

"Tackle him!" Making her quiet war cry, she slid forward until she thudded into the bird Pokémon. The other Pokémon squawked, batting his wings as was knocked across the ground. His talons dug into the ground, leaving small furrows in the earth.

"Again!" Munna slid forward at her trainer's command, tackling the Pidove again. Karma smiled as it was knocked back much farther than before, hitting one of the trees behind it.

"Nice job, Munna! You rock!" Karma said as she watched, smiling. With another hit, the Pidove's eyes turned into swirls, and it fell limp. Karma's smile widened.

"You're epic, Munna!" she yelled, running forward to get to her Pokémon, nearly tripping over herself several times but getting there without incident. Reaching toward, she hugged the Munna that was nearly as big as her head to her chest.

"If we keep training, we'll get even stronger and have more friends!" Karma said, a happy smile decorating her face. Munna made her cry again, snuggling into her Trainer's embrace.

"And then I can stop the wrongs around us..." she whispered under her breath. 

"And let humans live in harmony with Pokémon. Like you and me, right Munna?"


	2. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Shadow Number Two: Sirius.
> 
> Also: The Deadly Duo is formed.

Tristan was always five steps ahead of his brother. He was always faster, or stronger, or smarter than him. He knew everything, and could do anything, and was always in the right place at the right time. And like most people, he wasn't fine with it.

Always being known as "Tristan's little brother", or "the idiot" made him angry. Couldn't they see that he was trying? Couldn't they see that he was just as good as his brother?

But there was one thing that his brother couldn't do, and that was play the violin. Or do anything musical, really. He had the voice of a dying Croagunk (not exaggerating either. He knows how that sounds), and whenever he touches anything remotely like an instrument, he broke it. Either that, or he made a Wailord's mating cry (again, not exaggerating). 

He, on the other hand...

Well, that would be telling.

And no one knew how to deal with tellers better than he did.

-

No one knew who the musician in the Dragonscale Café was. No one knew where he came from. No one knew where he went. Sure, the owners might have tried to find him, but whenever they did, he just disappeared.

So after a while, they gave up. 

And that's just the way he liked it.

Every Friday night, he slipped in, clothes baggy and tattered. The instrument changed every week, ranging from a string bass to harp to the small violin he carried this week. He would sit on the edge of the stage and play the most beautiful music that the customers had ever heard, no matter the instrument (unless it was the piano. He had to sit on a stool for that one).

Tonight was no different. The dark haired youth tilted his head at the manager, bright blue eyes silently asking permission. Like with every night, the owner of the café directed him to the stage, which already had the soft spotlights on it. With a thankful smile, the youth walked onto the stage silently, settling himself down on the edge. The crowd quieted in anticipation.

Carefully, the boy lifted the violin to his shoulder and the bow to the strings. With a soft smile, he began to play, a gentle, sorrowful melody that made the audience's heart ache. 

He played until dawn, when the café closed, before hanging the instrument on the wall where all the new instruments that he brought hung or leaned against. There was a silver trumpet, a guitar, a viola, a harp, a giant string bass, a trombone, a bass trombone, and a few others already on/at the wall.

With a wave, the boy slipped out of the back door and into the shadows of the buildings surrounding the small cafe, not to be seen again until the next Friday.

-

"Hey, you're Tristan's little bro, huh?" The seven year old grinned brightly, white hair bouncing as he nodded. The purple-clad boy in front of him grinned, crouching down.

"Yup! That's me!" He finished with a thumbs-up, cheerfulness radiating from him. His eyes closed as part of the smile, so he didn't realize when the Trainer's expression changed from a smile to a slight frown.

"You know... I'm a psychic." The words were quiet. Tristan's brother cracked one eye open slightly, grin flattering. However, in the next second, it was as bright as the sun. This time, his eyes were open.

"Cool! That means you must be super awesome, right?" The psychic watched him for a few seconds, a strange expression on his face.

"You... you don't even remember your own name, do you." It wasn't a question, and they both knew it. The boy's grin finally dropped.

"What do you want?" This came out in a low tone, not the usual bright and cheery one. "What do you want from me?" The boy watched the psychic intensely, unblinking. The psychic stared back.

"I want what every psychic wants. To be in tune with the energies around them." The boy who claimed to be a psychic paused, looking at the ground. The white haired boy watched him intently.

"And we are all given a journey to go on in order to do that. And I'm getting the feeling that you're part of mine."

That was the day when the boy finally got a name.

Sirius.

The next day, he left the village. 

The day after that, it was turned into a chunk of ice, his family and café with it.


End file.
